Somewhere a Clock is Ticking
by meagalbagel
Summary: When the war ended, the wizarding world was left without a single power to guide it. He stepped in and she followed. HDr
1. Prologue

**Somewhere a Clock is Ticking**

"Don't you breathe/Something happened, that I never understood/You can't leave"

Snow Patrol

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

**Prologue**

For the sheer and depressing fact that the forest was at the time a war zone, it seemed quite peaceful.

Of course, she could hear the occasional shouts in the distance; someone who had been discovered hiding, lurking, sneaking or trying to flee…

…and possibly had met their fate…

But right now it was silent.

She had been walking…running through the forest for hours, jumping to the side whenever she saw a shadow or heard the rustle of trees. She would mentally try to calm her heart down as it pounded, praying that it didn't burst through her chest and give her away. It had only been a few weeks since the first battle…Hermione had lost track of the exact number of days. But it wouldn't finish soon.

There was a crack of a twig and she turned to look behind her.

Nothing. She turned back quickly.

And there…not more than four yards in front of her was an equally surprised Draco Malfoy. She whipped her wand around in a sudden movement, holding it straight out in front of her. Her hands were clammy; she could barely keep her grip.

It was dark, and through the moonlight coming down amongst the many dead leaves and branches above the two she could barely see his face.

Yet _his _wand, on the other hand, was no where to be seen…Instead he had a trunk and a broom. Was he…?

Their eyes locked suddenly as Hermione took an intake of breath. Her look of fear changed to a scowl…if anyone was the epitome of evil that the war stood for, it was Draco Malfoy. She didn't say this often, but he deserved to die. His hate was what had caused this, and her hate would end it.

She ignored the paradox and spoke.

"Malfoy," She said, addressing him, trying her best to keep her voice from quivering. There would certainly be a loathsome response.

Nothing. He didn't speak, instead he shook his head and took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily as if to breath relief before opening them again.

Hermione had seen enough of the war to know what she had never wanted to, to know the rules of life, death, battles, duels, the unspoken rules of hatred. She had seen it before…when two wizards met like this, there were never any mercies.

Only one of them could walk away alive.

And the other…well…she never let her mind wander that far. It made her sick to her stomach. The idea was still a surreal one to her innocent mind.

Only one…

She held her stance, waiting for a response. He would respond, certainly he would…it was only commonsense that something would come back toward her in the form of exactly what she expected.

Silence ensued.

His eyes closed again, turning his head quickly, this time in a much more fearful way, as if her stare had broken him. Hermione felt suddenly very alone.

Still no wand, no movement besides the beating of her heart which shook her whole body, causing her to sway slightly. The only hint that he was alive was the rising and falling of his chest which seemed to be causing him to sway as well. She cocked her head.

Two people, swaying with the trees.

"Put your wand down, Granger." He said, breaking the silence. Dropping his broom neatly besides his brown leather trunk, he ran one hand through his hair, causing Hermione to jump, "It's not worth it."

He opened his eyes as he finished and she stared into them once again, hoping that she could cause him to back down as he had before. He looked, confused, emotional…angry and sad all at once. What was going on? She felt a rush of adrenaline reach her head and found it hard not to fall over. Something was in the air, something was wrong.

Something was always wrong these days. Wrong was beginning to seem…right.

"Oh I think it would be very worth it!" She said, standing up straighter, daring him to raise his wand, send a spell…do anything to be recognizable as the Draco Malfoy she knew.

"Stop pretending you care, Granger." He spat in even tones, "You know this war has reached the point where it's no longer about us."

Hermione took a step back. What was he talking about?

"It was always about us!" She said, somewhat relieved to be arguing. At the very least that was familiar. "Besides," she continued, "you've made it about us…Dumbledore is…"

"Dead…" He cut her off and she gasped, "I am very aware of that. He is dead and so are many others…Just put it down, Granger. You don't want me to pull out my wand." She shook her head like a defiant five year old and opened her mouth to speak but he continued, "God Damn it, I don't want to pull my wand out. This war isn't worth dying for. Just put it away, please!"

Was he begging?

He hadn't once spoken the word that had left his lips so often when they attended Hogwarts. She didn't understand…it was making her apprehensive. There was a desire deep within her to avenge Harry's pain…avenge Dumbledore…but she wasn't about to make the first move.

"I don't want any favors, besides, how can I trust you?" She asked, her voice was growing louder with apprehension, "Don't you want to kill me?" she echoed through the forest, "Am I not a filthy mudblood? Haven't you made that clear for the past seven years?"

"I told you…" He said, his hands at his side. His body language was impatient, the aura about him reeked of anticipation, "It's not about that anymore…" Her hand lowered slightly, "Your side will win, Granger. Isn't it obvious? The Dark Lord will die. Now, it's your choice…we can duel…one of us will die…or you can put your wand down and let me go so that we can both have futures…"

Her wand lowered slightly again, but she didn't let down her guard. She didn't want to die, but for the first time in her life, it was no longer black and white. The actions that needed to be taken to keep herself safe weren't what they always had been. In any ordinary case, it would have been obvious, but now…something deeper…something told her to pocket her wand and walk away.

Suddenly he started to move. She immediately jumped and pulled her wand up again.

"Where are you going?" She demanded forcefully as he stepped towards his broom and mounted it.

"Away from this mess," He said as he grabbed his trunk.

"I still have my wand out. I could kill you if I wanted to."

He didn't respond to her comment, "You didn't see me, Granger," he said, pulling his hood over his head and giving her a comfortingly familiar smirk.

And then she understood. He was fleeing…Draco Malfoy was leaving.

"You are a coward." She said. He shook his head and laughed slightly.

"Whatever you say, Granger."

He was a coward, at least he was a coward when things were black and white. Yet…he had the courage to leave and save himself from ruin, and for that, Hermione applauded him.

And so she let him go. Not because she was scared to fight and not because she had particularly wanted him to live…but because she understood…

Her wand came down to her waist and she took a step back as he rose into the air.

And a part of her wished she was on that broom with him.

Two people had met in the forest, head on. And two people had walked away. She had broken every rule she had realized in the days since the war had begun.

She had let him live…

When the war ended, the wizarding world was left without a single power to guide it.

He stepped in…because she had let him live.

* * *

TBC  
Review s'il vous plait! 


	2. Somewhere a Clock is Ticking

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

**Somewhere a Clock is Ticking**

Part I

**Chapter One: Somewhere a Clock is Ticking**

"Another soldier, says he's not afraid to die/Well I am scared"

Snow Patrol

* * *

Draco Malfoy would not have been the first to admit that it was hard to run a country. 

But of course, he wasn't about to.

The hallway was dark and the ceilings so high you could barely see them. The walls rose up and disappeared into a swirl of black. You could loose yourself easily amidst the darkness. If you stared long enough, it would engross you, pick you up off the floor and move you slowly forward without you being completely aware. Yet the second that the feeling of weightlessness, of freedom was completely surrounding you, it would drop you back down again.

Ahhh, reality.

A pair expensive dragon hide shoes, of the finest quality of course, clicked and clopped across the cold stone floors.

Clip-clop-clip-clop-clip-clop-clip-----

He had reached the end of the hallway, his destination, and turned around slowly to look and see if anyone had followed him. It appeared that no one had. It would be impossible to read emotions in this light anyways.

And so he let go.

Draco leaned back against the rough and uneven wall and slid down it ungracefully, letting out a sigh as he buried his face in his hands. It was not a sigh of relief. It was halfway a scream and halfway a sob that resonated through the windowless hallway and echoed off of the invisible ceiling he wasn't even sure existed.

Checking his watch, Draco squinted, trying to make out the numbers. He had seven minutes before he had to be back into the meeting. Most everyone had chosen to take the 10 minute recess outside to enjoy the last of the summer heat. Draco didn't understand that; he didn't understand the concept of going outside at all.

It was much safer staring into the dark.

Everyone thought that they knew him. The young girls in the book stores fawning over newspaper and magazine pictures thought that they knew him. The reporters and paparazzi that filled the entrance and meeting halls with cameras thought that they new him. And his council…they were positive that they understood every bone in his body.

But did they?

Arrogant?

Self centered?

Yes, he was those things.

Controlling?

Draco Malfoy was under no circumstances under control. In fact, he was under no circumstances confident and he was under no circumstances happy. He was stressed to the point of break down. But he wasn't going to let the whole of wizarding Britain know that he was beginning to rethink this whole ordeal; where would they be then?

Well…for starters they would be worse off than they were now and this was hard to believe possible.

He had never imagined that it would be like this. Keeping his reputation was the easy part; in fact, he was always doing exactly what everyone expected. No, it was responding and acting that was hard; he was having a hard time being a good man. He had promised himself that he wasn't going to be a tyrant. That was what that prick Voldemort had done to ruin himself. So he was in the middle. Between a despot and the man of the people.

He was stuck and he couldn't get out.

Hanging from the endless blackness, the dark pulling at him from all sides…it had once seemed as if it would be so easy. Now, he felt as if he was suspended in mid air, high above what was easy and far below what was right.

It was impossible to touch either of them.

And so he just let himself dangle.

If only he was happy…maybe then…

But as of now, no one was.

"Master Malfoy?"

Draco looked up suddenly, a strand of his blond hair falling towards his face. He looked into the darkness as a voice called again.

"Master Malfoy?"

It sounded like Roy, the head representative of the Buxbury District. Draco could see a dot of light down the hall, presumably his wand. He stood up quickly, dusted of his robes and slicked back his hair back. He applied a quick vanity spell to get it to stay and tried to ignore the snide comments that ran through his head as he did so…

"People can tell you haven't been sleeping because of the bags under you eyes."

"Your skin has seen better days…"

"When was the last time you took a shower?"

"Thank God for Magic" one voice said.

"Here here!" said another.

"Lumos," He whispered, striding down the hall and pushing himself up into his highest and most royal position.

Clip-clop-clip-clop-clip-clop.

The light that had been coming towards him stopped at the sound of his shoes. Draco, in the most powerful voice he could muster spat, "Come come, we'll be late for the meeting."

He saw a fleeting look of Roy's astonished face as he blew past him, his black royal robes billowing behind him.

Draco wasn't about to admit that he wasn't completely succeeding in his plan…

But hey…at least he could look the part.

* * *

"Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah…"

How long had it been?

30 minutes? 40 minutes?

He looked towards the large geared clock on the wall.

7 minutes!?

It didn't seem possible that the clock could be right.

But of course it was; leaning back into his plush leather chair, he rolled his eyes.

"Blah blah blah blah blah blah…"

Would this ever end?

No…it was his life.

It was the same worthless chatter. In the beginning his attentiveness had been constant. He controlled, ran and presided over the meetings. When he spoke no one else did and when someone else spoke he listened…interrupting when necessary. The executive and legislative branches had worked together, like a well oiled machine.

But the government was changing. Some would say it was settling into place, like a new house, creaking as it lies in on its foundations. But as it settled, it seemed to grow further and further away from what he wanted.

They hated him now. And so he hated them back. He wasn't sure how exactly it had become this way. He had the absolute power, a veto. And he had lots of money, which he spent excessively.

But mainly it was because he smart. He outsmarted them both in ways that they understood and ways that they didn't. He not only knew them, but he knew the enemy as well. And so they hated him.

They had begun to go in circles, trying to stop one problem by starting another. It was the same topics with the same solutions…and Draco grew tired of trying to stop the helpless cycle to the point were he stopped caring at all.

And so he became what the council had branded as a "dictator", unwilling to comply with anything that they had to say and therefore unwilling to comply with the people. It wasn't getting them anywhere.

Like always…stuck in the middle of space…suspended…dangling…

The council gave him flack for his lifestyle, like that of the "classic king" they scoffed. And he was sure that the people saw it, too. Everyday he was treated less and less like a political figure and more and more like a common celebrity; magazines and newspapers full of scandals, gossip, and of course criticism of his lavish standard of living or his latest tyrannical and unmoral activities. They loved him and hated him all at once.

So daily, he pulled further into his shell, hiding in the dark.

Yet the council couldn't claim to be the most frugal people either. Draco knew that they enjoyed his money just as much as he did. Hypocrites. The world was full of them.

The speech given by the Representative from the Central District was now over and the council had entered into debate. Taxes…again. Taxes had dominated the monthly check up meetings so much so that a special meeting had been set aside concerning only the topic of taxation.

Actually taxes had dominated the past five years. It was another endless cycle, they raised them up, then pulled them down, raised them up, then pulled them down.

It would never end.

"…The point of the matter is that with the taxes at this high of a rate, the poverty of the wizarding community is increasing massively. We can't let the country fall apart because of poverty."

"Time…Representative Sapman."

"I would like to speak in favor of the proposal,"

"Permission to speak in favor of the proposal. You have two minutes."

"We have focused funding and taxes on the government and rebuilding since directly after the war. And even though federal taxes are not hitting the desired level, there is a point in time when taxes stop helping and start hurting. The government is by all means stable enough to stop using income taxes for their own purposes. I yield my time to Representative Jensen."

Representative Jensen stood up and opened his mouth to speak. He may as well have saved his energy.

"Own purposes?" Draco saw his queue, "You think we are using income taxes for personal reasons?" His feet were propped up on the table, his hands clasped together in front of him…

"…well…sir…yes."

"For the past five years, the fluctuating income taxes have been going to governmental rebuilding and programs, at the council's request might I add. We haven't even hit the government income that we hoped for since before the war and as a result, none of our programs have been completed in the time frames and budgets allotted. And have never had a surplus. I don't know about you Mr. Jensen, but I'm not convinced that we should be lowering our income taxes at this point in time."

The council was silent.

"Yes…but the people are suffering in many areas…not just from poverty but from a lack of funding and rebuilding in their area."

"Then that's only more reason to keep the taxes where they are. We are trying to rebuild a country representative…programs need money and until we reach the predicted and budgeted income, we wont be able to do that. Lowering taxes won't solve that problem…it will just make it harder to create distress programs that you claim we need."

"Exactly, but Your Majesty, you have vetoed every distress relief program recommended within the past year..."

"I would not have vetoed the proposals if there had been sufficient funding. Don't you see?" Draco stood up, "I'm trying to keep the country out of debt here, too much action at this point in time could lead to a downspin" He spat.

Silence.

"And we would all hate that…" he added, taking a deep breath.

It was completely still as all eyes turned onto Draco.

And he knew from their faces that as much as they did not want to agree with him, they knew that he was right.

"Alright…then…I propose we table Proposal 41 and move into 16…all those in accordance."

The room chorused in "Ayes."

Alright, the debate was over…and how long had it been? 15 minutes!?

It hadn't been long enough.

* * *

AN: How-de-doo loves! I just wanted to leave a little hello and major THANKS for clicking on Somewhere a Clock is Ticking. Basically this story has been a work in progress for the past year or two. It was inspired by all sorts of silly little things like SAT vocab and European history, but most recently the amazingness of all things on my iPod. So each chapter will be named after a song, usually for lyrics sometimes to set the tone, but always because it's spectacular. Enjoy and always remember to REVIEW! 


	3. Easier to Lie

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

**Somewhere a Clock is Ticking**

Part I

**Chapter Two: Easier to Lie**

"To bear the weight and push into the sky it's easier to lie its easier to lie**"**

**Aqualung**

* * *

Hogwarts just wasn't the same as it used to be. It was dark and dank; the air inside it was supremely moist to the point where every breath was exhausting. It was school-abuse as Hermione saw it; a school shouldn't be used as a government building…

But honestly, it was all they had.

Arthur Weasley led the way down the hall, he had to be at least 10 paces ahead of her and Hermione was beginning to have a hard time seeing him. She felt as if it was only her and her shadows that cascaded from wall to wall.

She liked her shadows. They made her feel so powerful. She had never been a large person, but her shadows…they were something else.

Up, reaching, disappearing into the heavens.

Wand check had been a nightmare. Pushing, shoving, yelling…there was complete and utter chaos as everyone hurried to their place.

Everyone seemed to have a place…

They had passed the Great Hall and the Library (Hermione had cringed to notice that the doors were locked). She had seen the stairs that had led to Gryffindor Tower which had made her want to stop and take a visit; she wondered if she could sneak up there sometime when no one was looking…If it hadn't already been converted to some government office that is.

What where the chances of that?

But now she didn't recognize anything, which wasn't surprising to her. As many times as she had read Hogwarts a History, this place would always surprise her.

They hadn't passed many people and those who they had had barely cracked a smile. No one spoke in the halls, it seemed to be an unspoken law that everyone obliged to.

Or maybe it was something else…something that was in the air.

She felt it.

The war had changed so many of Hermione's priorities. Hell, it had changed the world's priorities. What was success anyways? Her grades didn't matter anymore; her OWLs and NEWTs didn't make a difference. Living in itself was hard enough to handle.

Living…she hadn't been doing much of that lately. In the most literal sense of the word, yes, but this routine that she was in, it wasn't life.

At least she hoped that it wasn't.

Distractions; isn't that what success had always been? A distraction from the real problems? She did what she did best; striving to succeed at what her mind was set to, even if it was pointless to do so.

And it often was very pointless.

Muggleborns weren't allowed to hold government positions in the council or within the district. It was discrimination, yes, but that was all. They were simply ignored by the government. No vote, no federal positions. And yet, no one spoke out against it….

Perhaps it was because he had let her stay, he had let all of them stay. And that was what mattered.

The war had come and gone. It had peaked during the summer after what should have been their 7th year, and slowly everything had deteriorated. Not just physically, but philosophically; hope was literally lost in the smoke that fell upon every battlefield. As evil fell and it seemed as if good would triumph, it became increasingly evident that a world without evil would just open up the pathway for a new fiend to breed itself.

The fact that good must defend itself in the first place, what quality did that show about mankind?

And then came the changes. There was a lull after…the end. Everyone had lost something, and everyone was willing to give up a few of their opinions in order to save what they had left.

So they waited.

Caught up in suspension; in a limbo.

Everyone waited for someone else to act.

And of course, someone did.

He was arrogant and self-centered, he didn't try to hide that. But there was something secretive about this new man who stepped up and held out his hands to the world, something that not many people could understand. Perhaps that was why no one had protested.

Or possibly, everyone had simply lost hope.

Her enemy became her leader…and yet she was happy because she became invisible to him.

Perhaps he simply didn't know how else to act. At least that was what she would like to think…considering her circumstances. But he was smart. He had to have at least half a brain, to have found himself with the power that he had.

Yet the current situation would suggest that the other half was simply…missing.

She hadn't seen him since the coronation two years before. Since, she had been busy working anywhere she could get a job (which was difficult no thanks to him) and he had been busy…doing whatever it was that a self-centered rich man did; acting as the figurehead for the government, someone to pin all of the good, and yes all of the bad directly on. He never said much anymore, he left that to the press. And he rarely went anywhere, they followed him.

But what he actually had to say…who knew?

He lived somewhere here in the castle, within his private quarters. She supposed that the Slytherin Dungeons and the left wing of the castle had been converted to his needs. Yet somehow he always seemed to disappear. Hermione was sure he had his secrets.

It wasn't until three days before that she had even been allowed into the government building. They had made an exception for her, the council had the majority on this one. With most of the order now working for the South District, Hermione would have liked to believe that they had some power of the sort. They had seen the hero-friend of Harry Potter struggling to make do with the restrictions held against her kind. It was too hard to battle for a reform. Baby-steps, they had told her. Then they, actually Lupin, had told her that she had been offered a job.

It was a new position added to reduce the stress within the executive branch of the government.

In response to her broad grin, he had laughed and added, "I can't guarantee it will be the most pleasant of tasks…"

"What is it?" She had asked, intrigued at the idea of returning to Hogwarts and helping to make a change in any ways she could.

"Well…"

The hallway grew darker as she stepped further into it. She didn't remember ever seeing it before, and yet here it was. Turning a corner, she was pleased to see a hint of light ahead of her. That must be their destination.

"I'd barely call that working for the government! More like being bloody Malfoy's slave!" She had spat in disgust.

"Alright Hermione. We know it's not the most appealing of jobs, but don't do this for yourself, do it for the district. No one has ever been able to get this close to the king!"

"Close to him? What is that supposed to mean? Become his confidant? Secret pal? Are we talking about the same Malfoy here?" Hermione asked, looking for any argument against doing what they asked.

"That's not what I'm trying to say…You have…a way with people that others do not. And the council has had their share of struggles with the King the past few years, not to mention the endless rumors that circulate him on top of politics…" Hermione had to stifle a laugh, "We just hoped that as his representative, you could push him in the right direction and get him back on track…"

"How am I supposed to know what direction--" Hermione started.

But another voice had chorused through the room. It was softer and calmer than the others around her who spoke with such demand and desperation. Hermione felt all of her frustration smothered in the words as she heard the gentle voice of Molly Weasley engulf her into reason

"Hermione…" She spoke, "We aren't asking you to work miracles…and we know it may not be the most honorable of jobs, but the point is that there is room for growth, not only for you…but for all of your kind! If you take this job, who knows what could happen for muggles and even for wizards and witches in general; there is tremendous potential! Lupins right, you have incredible ways with people, Pumpkin…This is you chance…take it while you can Dear, who knows what it could bring."

"But working for the king? A private assistant for Malfoy!?"

She said it as if just the thought of such a profession would make her spit up her dinner.

Turkey and cranberry.

Bribery of course.

"You aren't working for the king, Hermione…you are working for you country and your people. Do this for your people."

How could she have argued with that?

She barely thought she could save Britain from its post-war slump just by being the king's bloody secretary (she used the word "secretary" when she was feeling sorry for herself). That would be a miracle…and she didn't have much experience in the field at all, but the District told her that all she needed was some toleration and her good organizational skills. The rest would just come naturally.

There weren't any people this deep into the castle; she felt very alone. The silence was the same though as it had always been, even slightly comforting. All that she could hear was the clank of her heels and the occasional scuffle of feet ahead of her.

Arthur turned back to look at her and Hermione quickened her pace.

It was beginning to grow lighter. They must be nearing the end.

Squeezing her hands together, Hermione looked down to her 3 inch stilettos, dreadful things she had picked up while waitressing a couple-three jobs ago.

"This is it."

Hermione stopped suddenly.

And it was beautiful.

They had arrived at the end of the hallway. She stood at the opening to a rotunda, about 20 feet in diameter, with two rounded stone columns on either side of the entrance. There was an old circular rug draped across the floor. The walls were covered with intricate details carved into the stone and protuberant columns that rose up to the ceiling.

But what was beautiful was the light. There was a large stained glass dome above them, and the colors cascaded across the floor and the walls creating a luminous kaleidoscope.

The juxtaposition of it all was enough to make her laugh.

"Nice, ain'it?" Arthur asked rhetorically with a pause, "Come on then."

He walked across the rotunda and to the door on the other side. It was beautiful dark oak with two gold door handles.

Serpents.

Hermione focused herself back onto life…miserable life, and crossed the rotunda to stand next to Arthur.

"This," Mr. Weasley said, "Is the king's office."

And before she could protest, he knocked.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had a splitting headache.

Not a hangover…no of course not. Just a headache.

He was lying down on his lush green sofa in the corner of the room and slowly drifting…not to sleep, not into a dream, but barely in consciousness.

He heard a knock and the pitter patter of feet, but it surpassed him, and he sighed. He was in a world without duty or obligation. There was no wishy-washy council, no reporters or cameras, no darkness. He was in his Utopia.

"Master…Master Malfoy…"

Not now.

It was Crinky, as if being woken up was hard enough.

"There seems to be someone at your door"

"Well answer it…" Draco said as his eyes began to close yet again, "Tell whoever it is that I'm out."

"Crinky has seen who is at the door, sir…and Crinky thinks…sir that you should stand up and look appropriate…"

Appropriate?

He glanced at his appointment book which sat unopened at his desk…

No, he wasn't about to open that.

He sat up and tilted his head, trying to remember…

Yes…

"Sir…?" Crinky asked questionably.

Oh no.

"Well don't just stand there!" He said in a shushed yell, "Answer the door!"

Crinky leapt to it, scuttling towards the door as Draco applied yet another spell to his hair…he stood up, as his whole body yelled for him to do the contrary.

It was his new assistant. How could he have forgotten? The bloody "Personal Public Representative" that the some committee (at the request of the council) had drawn up for "his benefits and the benefits of the community."

Bull Shit.

Crinky opened the door as Draco sat down at his desk and lifted his legs up onto it, crossing them in his most politician-like stature.

One of the Weasley's, too old to be a son so presumably the father, walked through the door.

"Your Majesty…" Mr. Weasley spoke bowing.

Trying not to look tired, Draco smirked and gave a nod of recognition.

It was dark in his office, maybe dark enough that they wouldn't see the bags under his eyes.

"Allow me to introduce-" Mr. Weasley began, but there was no need for an introduction.

She was slender, but not very tall. He could tell by the way she stood that she had heels on to boost her height. Her hair was wavy and fell past her shoulders. She was plain.

"Granger." He said forcefully.

He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her specifically. He had too many other priorities than fraternizing with her kind…especially her.

But it was the same familiar face.

"Your Majesty…" She spoke, bowing her head into a little curtsy.

It must have killed her to say that.

His face turned into a wide smirk, "Mr. Weasley, you are dismissed; my assistant thanks you for your help.

Mr. Weasley looked at Granger who gave him a reassuring nod mixed with a slight smile. Bowing once again, he exited the room.

And then it was just them.

* * *

AN: And now the fun begins…Sorry my updates have been sporadic. I will have a lot on my plate until mid April (anyone in the International Baccalaureate program might understand my pain…damn the IB Gods) and then things will tentatively lighten up (knock on wood).

Review please!


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